Fix You
by sinfullysarcastic
Summary: '"I feel like nothing's ever going to be right again. He was my father, Patricia. I feel like I'm broken…like-" And she was surprised herself as she pulled back from him and gave him a determined yet pleading look. "Then let me fix you."' Based on Fix You by Coldplay. Peddie. Eddie/Eric angst. Character death.


**Disclaimer: I don't own House of Anubis.**

**Warning: Character Death.**

**Based on the song 'Fix You' by Coldplay. I suggest listening to it if you haven't already.**

**Fix You**

Patricia smiled as she looked up at the sign: _Anubis_. This was her home, this was her school, and this was where everyone that she had ever taken the time to care about resided. But with that being said, it was also the place a certain ex-boyfriend of hers, Eddie Miller, lived.

She knew _why _they broke up- she was the one to break up with him in the first place, but she had never given him a reason why. He had called her a few times since their breakup, but she had never picked up. Knowing Eddie, it was probably on his mind every day…unless he had already moved on. She had broken up with him a month ago, plenty of time to go find a new American girl to date.

That hurt.

She winced slightly before knocking on the door, clutching her suitcase behind her.

"_Patricia_!" Trudy greeted, ushering her in before enveloping her in a hug. Patricia laughed into the woman's shoulder, looking around for any sign of Eddie. She knew that they would have to pass each other soon, but right now, all she was planning to do was avoid him until the time came. It worked better for them both anyways- she wasn't even sure if Eddie could stand the sight of her after what she did. He had brought her to America, showed her a good time, and her response was to break up with him.

It sounded worse when she put it like that.

"Trudy!" Patricia gave her a friendly but forced smile and looked around, trying to remain nonchalant. "Is, uh, is anyone else here?"

Trudy looked almost teary at the mention of Eddie and Patricia felt a sense of worry overcome her. Oh no, he wasn't here, was he? What if he switched houses so as not to see her...or even schools…or even worse, what if something had _happened _to him? What if-

"Patricia, really, you _just _saw Eddie back in America, did you not? But yes, he's here," Trudy choked out before she freely began to cry. "Oh, the poor boy." Patricia raised an eyebrow as Trudy sat down on one of the last steps, burying her head in her hands.

"Uh, Trudy? Are you alright there?" Patricia asked awkwardly, not sure what to do. She never did when people broke out in tears.

Trudy wiped the tears from her eyes, "Oh, yes, silly old me." She gave Patricia a sad smile, "You know me, making a big deal out of everything." She hurriedly rushed off and Patricia dismissed the conversation, lugging her suitcase up the stairs as she did every year.

Just as usual, while every other girl of the house had their luggage carried by their boyfriend or one of the boys that liked them.

If she hadn't split up with Eddie, maybe _he _would've been carrying her suitcase up the stairs for her.

She let out a bitter laugh at the thought- Eddie wouldn't have done that for her unless she provoked him by calling him weak or something. He would've probably just scoffed and said something along the lines of, 'you've got two arms, do it yourself.'

Now he wouldn't even say that to her.

* * *

"We have some unfortunate news this year," Victor cleared his throat, eyes looking suspiciously wet. Patricia exchanged a look with Joy, who shrugged, looking concerned. "Mr. Sweet will not be joining us."

"First Nina and now Mr. Sweet?" Amber threw her hands up. "Did he _retire_?"

"No, Ms. Millington," Victor sighed. "Mr. Sweet will not be joining us this year or any years after because he is dead." His voice was firm but his face was twisting into different expressions, as if he was still trying to process what was happening.

Silence.

"He's _dead_?" Jerome finally blurted. "Victor, you have to be joking-"

"I am not," Victor glared. "You may ask Mr. Miller."

_Eddie_.

"Oh no," Patricia breathed out, hastily leaving her chair. That was why Eddie hadn't come out his room since they arrived- his father was _dead_- _his father was dead_.

The whole room turned silent but she didn't even pay attention as she sprinted down the hall. She wasn't sure what she would say to him and she knew it would be awkward as hell, but _somebody _needed to be there for him, and if it was an ex-girlfriend, then so be it.

She herself would miss Mr. Sweet too- after being in his office for detention so many times, she had grown fond of the man even if he hadn't felt the same for her. He had become an important figure of her life- she even knew what kind of _coffee _he liked, because of the number of times she had been called down to see him.

Warm tears began sliding as she knocked on the door, and Patricia sniffled a bit. She needed to focus on Eddie right now- if she was feeling like this, then he must've been ten times worse.

"Eddie?" she whispered to the pile of blankets that was sure to be him. The boy whimpered at the sound of his name and sat up, giving her a good look. His hair was a mess, his eyes were bloodshot, and his whole face was red with tear streaks running down. He looked absolutely horrible and so gauntly thin, as if he hadn't eaten in days. Patricia's heart ached at the mere sight and she walked over hesitantly.

"I heard you come," he said in a shaky low voice. "You had your luggage. Trudy was crying. And you-"

"Eddie," she bit her lip, more tears pouring until her sight was blurry. "D-do you want to talk-"

"Talk?" he laughed crazily, as if the idea itself was a preposterous. He had a manic look in his eyes, "What's there to talk about? It's not like my dad just died right when we were starting to get along. It's not like I never spent good time with him. It's not like I loved him. It's not like I never told him. It's not-"

"_Weasel_," she whispered, voice cracking as she felt blood on her lip from where she had bit. She cautiously sat down next to him. "When was the last time you ate? Or slept?"

Another borderline psychotic laugh.

"Who needs food? Who needs sleep? _I _don't need-"

"Yes, you do," she said, tears dripping off her chin and onto his bedspread. "Eddie, please, talk to me about it."

"But you don't like talking," he pointed out. "Because I asked you to talk about why you broke up with me and you didn't." He looked almost mental as he gave another short sorry laugh, delirious from lack of sleep. "And then my dad went and had a heart attack and I'll never talk to _him _again." Another chuckle, as if he had come to terms with this a while ago. Not sleeping had definitely taken its toll.

"I miss him too, if it helps," her voice quivered as she hooked an arm around his shoulders.

"I'll see him soon," Eddie said, seeming to sober at her touch. "He left me for ten years before, right? What's another sixty or so, huh?"

And though this was a depressing topic, Patricia found herself immensely relieved that Eddie still planned on living a long life, not harboring any suicidal thoughts whatsoever.

But he was hiding his feelings as usual.

"Eddie, look at me, I'm crying too," she pointed to her cheeks. "S-see? I am too. You can go ahead." Eddie seemed to soften and he ran a hand through his hair as he had done so many times before. And slowly, his bottom lip quivered and tears pricked at the corners of his eyes.

"You weren't there," he said in a low voice. "_You _weren't there. I had to go to his funeral, I saw him in a c-casket, y-you w-weren't t-t-there." Hot tears streamed down his face and he sniffled as well, voice rising. "And then I-I wanted t-to t-talk to _you _about it…b-but you w-wouldn't a-answer your phone and I-I-I-"

"Shh, stop talking, shh," Patricia pressed a finger to his lips as he began hyperventilating.

"A-and I wanted to talk to y-you but you wouldn't pick up!" His face turned red and the tears went _drip drip _onto the bedspread. "_I wanted to tell you because I thought you'd be there for me but then I remembered that you're not because, oh yeah, we broke up_! And I wanted to talk to Eric but he's dead, now, isn't he? He's _dead_, and it's not fair! It's not fair at all, why is he dead? He was a good person," Eddie choked out, slamming his fist onto the bed but crying helplessly. "My dad was a good father. My dad was a good teacher."

"Eddie, please, you're going to make yourself puke or something," Patricia cautioned, crying harder at some recollections of Mr. Sweet but mostly at Eddie's face, red and wet. Mostly at his eyes, which looked like a little kid's, deprived of his sweets. Mostly at how he talked, stumbling over his words, how his bottom lip shook, how his fist slammed repeatedly into the bed. Patricia grabbed the fist with one hand and wiped away his tears with the other. She didn't even give it a second thought as she wrapped her arms around him- girlfriend or not, Eddie needed this from someone.

"I miss him," Eddie finally murmured into her shirt, sounding so broken and just so _un-Eddie _that she wanted to cry herself. His voice was shaking again and trembling hard. She dried her eyes on his shirt. "I mean, even when he left when I was seven, he was still out there, you know?" He fisted her shirt, "Now he's…not."

"I miss him too," she consoled.

"I feel like nothing's ever going to be right again. He was my _father_, Patricia. I feel like I'm broken…like-"

And she was surprised herself as she pulled back from him and gave him a determined yet pleading look.

"Then let me fix you."

And she slammed her lips onto his, letting him pour all his emotions into her, all the anger and frustration and sadness. She could feel the salt from the tears they both had mingling into the kiss, and Eddie pushed her down onto the bed just like he had during the summer, mouth moving to her neck, working sloppily and forcefully. Patricia grabbed his head before he could go any farther, and suddenly they were both facing each other, panting.

"Why'd you break up with me?" his voice cracked, but she shushed him. What now? Food? Sleep? Food.

"I'm going to get you something to eat," she said carefully. "And you're going to eat it. And then you're going to go to sleep, yeah?" She wiped some more tears away before getting up.

"Thank you," he murmured, sounding eternally grateful.

"I told you I would fix you," Patricia looked him dead in the eyes. "I _don't _break my promises." Eddie gave her one last meaningful look before burrowing under his covers while Patricia swung the door open and left the room.

But as it swung shut, she could hear shallow breaths and quiet sobs coming from his room again.

Eddie could never do this on his own- he had been through so much with Eric, so many unresolved issues and things to talk about. Patricia wasn't honestly sure she could help him.

But she'd try.


End file.
